We Have Met the Enemy
by Bamfwriter
Summary: GEN 6th-year Black hates Snape, and vice versa. But an afternoon in exile together may change things. After nearly accidentally killing him, Black learns that there is more to Snape than just a greasy little git. Gross-out warning, language.


Set in Year Six of the Marauders Era. After the Lupin/Whomping Willow incident and Snape's Worst Memory. Sirius Black hates Severus Snape, and vice versa. But an afternoon in exile together may change things. After nearly accidentally killing him, Black learns that there is more to Snape than just a greasy little git. Gross-out warning. Some language (coupla S-words, one F-bomb.)

A/N: I noticed that a bit of text from the middle of the story went inexplicably "bye-byes" at some point, so I am re-uploading it.

* * *

WE HAVE MET THE ENEMY

It all started very innocently.

Sixth-year Hogwarts student Sirius Black was carrying Fifth-year Eloise Hensen's books as the two of them made their way toward the library for a study session. Eloise was going to study Advanced Arithmancy. Sirius was going to study Eloise. He smiled as she tossed her blonde hair, her blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight of the dimly-lit hallway.

Perhaps the dimness was to blame. But whatever the cause, just as Sirius Black came around a corner, his sworn enemy, Severus Snape came around the opposite one. Snape had his face buried in a book. Sirius was gazing distractedly at Hensen.

CRASH!

"Watch it!"

"Hey!"

"...YOU!"

"YOU!"

Eloise shrieked and scrambled backwards as the two young men drew their wands and faced off. Several students came running, and once word got around that Black and Snape were having a duel, more students showed up, from all directions. The rivalry between the Slytherin and the Gryffindor was something of a legend at the school, and their clashes were always exciting.

Sirius's eyes narrowed and he stepped angrily toward the smaller boy. "Well, Snivellus, I do believe you're overdo for your weekly hexing." He raised his wand.

"Sirius, what are you doing?" Hensen squeaked, taking hold of his sleeve and trying to pull him away from Snape. "It was an accident! He didn't mean to bump into you."

Black glanced at her, then back at Snape. "You don't understand, Ellie, this little git has been a problem from the first day he came here. Greasy, scrawny, sneaky, skulking little son of a..."

"Black!" Eloise exclaimed in shock. She shook her head a little, backing away from him. "I don't think I want to study with you after all." She gathered her books from the floor, gave one last glare and a toss of her golden curls, and flounced away.

"Ellie? Elle, wait!" Black called, turning toward her.

"Well, Black, that must be a familiar sight," Snape chuckled. "Women running away from you?"

The group of onlookers tittered nervously, as if not certain they should be laughing at the 'Bad Guy' of the equation.

"You picked the wrong day to mess with me, Snivellus," Black growled. He was angry. He had been looking forward to spending the evening with Hensen.

"Ha," Snape sneered. "Your mother rides a toilet brush."

At this, the students watching burst into laughter, and Black's face turned red. He glared around at the other students, then turned his attention back to his gloating foe.

"I'm going to hex you so hard, your grandchildren will feel it!" Black threatened, raising his wand and taking a defensive stance.

Snape snorted. "At least I have the possibility of producing offspring," he replied. "Or didn't you tell your girlfriend about that old Quidditch injury?"

Black gave a bellow of rage over the newest round of laughter and waved his wand. "Everte statum!"

Snape dodged, but the spell still glanced off his shoulder, knocking him to the floor. He glared up at his nemesis, pointed his own wand, and muttered a return hex.

Black yelped as what felt like an invisible fist punched him in the face. He reeled backwards, clutching his nose, and two students held him up. He recovered and charged toward Snape, wand up.

Snape pointed his own wand. Both men drew breath to hex each other, but before they could, a third voice rang out.

"Accio wands!"

Both Snape's and Black's wands flew out of their hands. They started, and whirled to face whomever had the nerve to interfere with their attempts to massacre one another.

Lupin stood there, fuming, both their wands clutched in one hand.

"Remus!" Black said cheerfully. "Just the guy I wanted to see." He held his hand out for his wand. "Come and help me teach the greasy little git a lesson, eh?"

Lupin just narrowed his eyes, making no move to return the wands.

"That's mine," Snape complained, pointing.

"Shut up," Lupin growled. "Both of you just...shut up!"

Black fell silent, and just glared at Snape with pure loathing. The Slytherin returned the look with vigor.

"Clear the way...let the headmaster through...make way."

Everyone moved aside as Albus Dumbledore came up the hallway. His face was stern, and his kind blue eyes were not twinkling with their usual amusement. Eloise Hensen followed on his heels, an anxious look on her face, and it was clear to all who had alerted the ancient wizard to the happenings between Black and Snape.

He came to stand before the two rivals, and studied them with a stern gaze. He turned to Lupin, held out a hand, and the sandy-haired young man gave him the two wands. Dumbledore took them, and motioned to Snape and Black.

"Follow me, gentlemen," he said softly, but with no room for argument.

With one last sneer at one another, Snape and Black fell in step behind the tall wizard. Behind them, the onlookers moaned in disappointment and dispersed. All except Lupin, who just watched the three people depart, sadly shaking his head.

* * *

"Sit down, gentlemen," Dumbledore ordered, moving to sit behind his massive desk. His two guests obediently sat down in the two armchairs across from the desk, not looking at one another. Albus studied their posture for a moment, and then cleared his throat. 

"Well," he murmured softly. "I had thought that this little issue between the two of you would have been resolved, after the incident with Lupin." He steepled his fingers and peered over the top of his half-moon glasses, disappointment obvious in his eyes and his voice.

Black's face turned red, and he lowered his eyes. That had been a bad decision on his part. He had intended to play a prank on Snape, but hadn't thought it out well. If not for James, Snape might have been killed, and Lupin might have been sent to Azkaban.

"Are you listening to me, Mr. Black?"

He blinked and came out of his reverie as he realized the headmaster had addressed him.

"Sir?" he inquired.

Dumbledore sighed in annoyance. "I said, this rivalry between you and Mr. Snape has got to stop. Your activities are disruptive and unproductive, not to mention outright dangerous. If it doesn't end, I fear one of you will be seriously hurt, or worse."

"Yes sir," Black murmured.

Snape remained silent, but threw a dark, victorious sneer in Sirius's direction.

"That is not to say that you are completely innocent in this, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore murmured, turning his attention to the ebony-haired boy. "Although reports usually indicate that Mr. Black or Mr. Potter instigate the friction, you do not do anything to defuse the situation."

Snape shook his head. "But sir," he began.

The headmaster cut him off by raising one hand. "You, too," he said gently, "need to learn tolerance and control of your temper," he said softly.

"That's not fair, Headmaster," Snape protested, voice rising as he stood.

"Severus," Dumbledore admonished softly, "please don't remind me of your father." The ancient wizard peered over the top of his glasses at the angry young man.

Sirius stealthily glanced over at the Slytherin. Snape sighed, as if deflating, and sat back in the chair.

"Sorry, sir," he murmured, barely-audibly, lowering his eyes.

The headmaster opened a desk drawer and deposited both Black's and Snape's wands inside, then closed the drawer and sealed it with a small charm. Then he stood and came around the desk to stand before the two boys.

"Tomorrow is Saturday," he said, smiling a little. "And I think I know how to kill two birds with one stone. You will both serve detention..."

Both boys groaned, slumping in the chairs. Saturday detentions seemed twice as bad as weekday ones, because they cut into their very limited free time.

Ignoring the protests, the ancient wizard continued. "There is a small, secluded area, through the woods down by the lake, off the north west corner of the castle. I will make certain that the rest of the student body knows that the area is off-limits to them tomorrow. The two of you are going to spend the afternoon there together, and work this out. That is both your punishment, and, I believe, a solution to the problem."

Snape and Black just stared at him.

"Are you serious, sir?" Snape asked uncertainly.

Albus grinned. "I am, Severus. You and Sirius will get to know each other. Perhaps then you can come to some sort of pact, or at least agree not to hex each other every time you meet at a corner in the corridors."

"But sir," Black began.

Dumbledore turned his back on them. "That is my final word, gentlemen. You will receive your wands tomorrow evening. Good day."

* * *

The next afternoon found the two rivals making their way in stony silence out to the spot Dumbledore had indicated. They didn't say a word to each other on the long walk from the castle. Then they spent about three hours separately wandering around on the small point of land that jutted out into the lake. 

Black kicked through the thick carpet of fallen leaves, glaring every so often at Snape, who sat on a log near the edge of a small overhang, looking out at the water. Sirius had to admit that the place to which they had been banished was much nicer then the usual venues for Hogwarts detentions.

The little spit of land was almost an island, joined to the shore by only a small strip of earth. The almost-island rose up quite a bit higher above the water level then the mainland, and must have been the point of a small hill before the lake had been formed so many eons ago.

The place where Snape had parked himself was especially nice; the crest of a low, steep cliff that cut off sharply at the water's edge several meters below. It provided a pleasant view across the lake, and Black made note of the spot for future reference. If Eloise ever spoke to him again, she would enjoy this spot.

"Well Black? You've been silent for over three hours, a new personal record, I believe."

The voice of his enemy jerked Black out of his thoughts of Eloise's blue eyes, and he turned to find the smaller boy sneering at him.

"Anything on that so-called mind of yours?" Snape gave him a nasty smirk, and turned to irritably toss a rock into the water.

Sirius frowned, moving toward the skinny boy. "Look, Snivellus," he began, "I hate you, and I know you hate me. So this plan of Dumbledore's is a big waste of time. So why don't we just ignore each other until it's time to go back in, OK?"

Snape stood up and came to face the bigger boy. He put his bony hands on his hips and cocked an arrogant black eyebrow. "And then what?" he muttered.

"What do you mean?" Black asked, cocking his head. He glowered when Snape sighed irritably, and rolled his eyes.

"I mean," Snape said exasperatedly, "what happens tomorrow? The headmaster expects us to work things out. Does that mean you plan to stop acting like a horse's arse and trying to hex me at every opportunity?" He looked down and idly kicked at a small rock.

"I will," Black growled back, "as long as you stop being a greasy little git." He smirked unpleasantly. "Although I know that will be tough...it runs in your family after all."

Snape's head shot up, and he fixed Black with an intense stare. "That's a rotten thing to say," he muttered lowly, narrowing his eyes. "Even for you."

Black shrugged, and gave him a sneering little bow. "The truth hurts." He turned on his heel and started away, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his robes, wishing he had his wand.

"Well, everyone knows there's been nothing but saints come from the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black," came a jeering voice from behind Sirius.

Black froze, face going stony. Snape had hit a nerve. He knew his family had some shameful history attached to it, but to hear the Slytherin mock him for it was just unacceptable.

"You need to shut up, Snivellus," he warned softly, turning to the smaller boy.

Snape laughed sharply. "Oh I see," he chuckled. "Slants at my bloodline are OK. Slants at yours are not." He stalked slowly forward, folding his arms across his chest. When he was only a half a meter from his rival, he stopped.

"The truth hurts...as you said," he murmured, softly. He smiled that infuriatingly condescending half-smile.

With an angry growl, Black lunged at Snape. The smaller boy was prepared though, and neatly side-stepped. Black grunted as he landed on his stomach in the leaves. His face burned with anger and embarrassment as he heard the Slytherin laughing softly.

"With grace like that, you'll be more suited as a ballerina than an Auror, Black."

Rolling quickly onto his side, Black kicked out and knocked Snape's feet out from under him. The thin boy collapsed with a grunt onto the leafy ground, then turned and scrambled away, trying to get to his feet. Before he could, Black strode over and grabbed him, yanking him upright by the collar of his robes.

"Ow! Son of a..."

"Language!" Sirius crowed, laughing as Snape tried to free himself. The larger boy locked his arms under and around those of the scrawny Slytherin, his fingers laced behind Snape's head. He'd read about the 'Full Nelson' in a magazine. It was a Muggle wrestling hold, primitive but very effective, he had to admit. Severus's arms were thrust out at the sides, completely useless.

"Let me go!" the black-haired boy shouted.

"Do you give?" Black asked. "Just admit that you're a greasy little git, and I'll...OOOF!"

Without warning, Snape hiked his foot back, putting a serious damper on future generations of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Sirius's grip loosened to the point that the smaller boy was able to wriggle free. Once he was loose, Snape turned and gave the bully a shove, sending him to the ground.

"Ohhhh," Black moaned, clutching his privates, or what was left of them. He shot the sneering Slytherin a most evil look. "You're going to pay for that one, Snivellus," he promised, wheezing.

Snape just chuckled. "You behemoths are all the same," he gloated. "All bluster and muscle, but nail you once in the right spot and you go down like a house of cards." He turned and walked off, waggling his fingers over his shoulder at Black.

Sirius lay on the ground, tears welling in his eyes, waiting for the pain to subside. He saw Snape move back to his place over the water, and sit down on the log. If the scrawny Slytherin thought this battle was won, he was sorely mistaken.

Black got painfully to his feet and started after the Slytherin. Snape was tossing stones into the water, apparently lost in thought. With a roar, the burly Gryffindor grabbed the smaller boy around the waist and picked him up.

"Black, stop being an arse!" Snape shouted, kicking and fighting to get free. But he was badly out-muscled by the larger boy.

Sirius laughed as he turned toward the water. He lugged his struggling classmate to the edge and changed his hold, grabbing two handfuls of the back of Snape's robes.

"Watch that temper, Snivellus," he teased. "I think you need to cool down a little!"

"No!" Snape must have realized what he had in mind, because he struggled harder. "No, Black! Black, please don't! Please!" He sounded rather frantic.

Sirius swung the smaller boy back and with a whoop, tossed him off the embankment.

"Blaaaack...!" Snape wailed on his short flight down to the water. The rest of the sentence was cut off as he splashed into the lake.

"Wash your hair while you're in there!" Black called. He doubled over and shook with laughter, wishing that the other Marauders were there to see the action. When he straightened, he looked down over the edge, wanting to see the look on Snape's face. He watched, waiting.

Snape didn't resurface.

Stepping slightly closer to the edge, holding a small sapling for support, Black kept waiting. He swallowed, somewhat uneasily.

Then, to his relief Snape's head broke the surface. Black smiled and turned away to head back up the path to the castle.

"HELP! HELP ME!"

He froze. Then he shook his head. Snape was trying to trick him. But all the same, he came back to the edge of the bank and looked down.

Snape was struggling in the water, trying to keep his head above the surface. His skinny arms, weighed down by the heavy robes, slapped on the surface as he went under. Bubbles came up as one pale hand broke the surface, flailing.

A cold feeling started in Sirius's stomach. He pushed it down, determined to call his enemy's bluff. The black-haired boy came up again, eyes wide and terrified as he choked, spitting out water.

"BLACK... PLEASE...I CAN'T SWIM!" Snape cried helplessly.

"Bullshit!" Black sang down at him. "Who do you think you're fooling?" All the same though, he had to admit that Snape was giving a good performance. Quite an actor, the little Slytherin was.

Then why were his hands sweating?

Snape went down again. He stayed down for a long time, and Sirius shifted nervously, looking around to see if anyone else was within earshot. Even though he was certain Snape was bluffing, Sirius knew he'd be in trouble if anyone saw what was happening.

The Slytherin came up, but only just barely. He seemed exhausted, weakly arching his neck back, trying to keep his face above the water.

"Help me...," the plea was softer now, the struggles growing weaker. "Please...don't let me die," he sobbed. "Sirius...pl..." He slipped out of sight under the surface.

Black waited, running his hands nervously over his thighs, then through his hair.

Snape wasn't coming up.

He wasn't bluffing.

With a gasp, Sirius stripped off his robes, tossed them aside, and dove in. The coldness of the water was a shock, and his already-bruised balls withdrew up to somewhere near his kidneys.

He located Snape almost immediately in the murky water. The smaller boy was sinking, still feebly struggling, about a meter below the surface. Black grabbed him by the front of his robes and kicked toward the surface.

As soon as they broke through, the Slytherin gave a great whooping gasp, and started choking. With the burst of oxygen, his strength was restored, and panic took over. He started thrashing against Sirius, threatening to drown both of them.

Black winced as a bony wrist connected with his jaw. Briefly he let go of Snape, then swam around and grabbed him from behind. He got hold of the frantic boy's wrists, and folded Snape's arms across his chest. Then he wrapped his own strong arms over top, restraining him.

"Relax!" he ordered sharply, as the terrified boy continued to struggle. "Snape! Snape, I've got you!" A flailing foot kicked him in the thigh, and he gasped in pain. Leaning closer, he lowered his voice, and spoke in what he hoped was a calming manner.

"Sev, shhh...easy... Easy, I can't help you if you don't stop fighting me. Let me help you."

Perhaps it was the fact that Black's tone was gentle, or that for the first time, he had used Snape's nickname. But as if cutting off a switch, the Slytherin's struggles ebbed away and he went still. Black released his hold on the skinny boy's arms, and slipped one arm around his waist. Then he started for shore.

"Are you OK?" he murmured as he towed his victim along. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I honestly thought you were faking."

"You could have...just walked away," Snape coughed, voice sounding oddly strained. "Why didn't you?"

"Don't ask me stupid questions," Black scolded. "Just shut up and breathe."

Snape was quiet for a moment, and then said, very softly, "You'd have been rid of me for good." The comment was very low and hard to hear, but Black managed to catch it.

"Oh, give over," the larger boy muttered. "Just because I hate your guts doesn't mean I want you dead." He shifted his hold around Snape's waist a little. "You're not THAT obnoxious."

Snape was silent.

"So," Black continued, trying to break the tension. "How is it that you never learned how to swim?" he asked. His feet touched the bottom and he stood up, dragging his passenger to his feet. Snape accepted his support, and leaned on the larger boy as they made their way up through the shallows and onto the bank.

"I don't like the water," he replied simply. He coughed again, doubling over, spasms shaking his frail frame.

"Yes, well..." Black started climbing up the bank, looking back every few steps to make sure the Slytherin was behind him. "That's obvious. I mean, look at your hair," he chuckled. He scrambled up over the crest of the embankment and reached back, extending a hand. Snape glared at him and ignored the proffered hand, making his own way up onto the overhang.

"Don't make jokes about what you don't understand, Black," he growled. He sat down on the ground, breathing hard, coughing and clearing his lungs. The cool, autumn wind picked up suddenly, and he shivered.

Black noticed, and moved to collect his discarded robes from the base of the sapling. His heavier build made him less prone to the cold than a beanpole like Snape, and he held his robes out to the shivering Slytherin. The smaller boy looked at the robes in disgust, then up at Black.

"You must be joking," the skinny boy sneered. "A Slytherin would not be caught dead in Gryffindork robes." He waved the garments away with a haughty flip of his hand.

"Oh, stop being a bloody child," Black growled. He grabbed the collar of Snape's soaked robes and yanked them off his shoulders. The Slytherin turned sharply and slapped his hands away.

"Geroff, I'll do it myself," he snapped. He shrugged out of the soggy garment, and then with a dramatic roll of his eyes, held out a hand for Black's robes. When the Gryffindor handed them over, Snape looked disdainfully at them for a second, then put them on.

"Glad you decided to be mature," Black chided. "Your pride will heal faster than a bout with pneumonia, just keep that in mind."

"Oh, you're one to talk about maturity. Who threw whom into the lake?"

The Gryffindor sighed. "Whatever." He got to his feet and started toward the castle. When he didn't hear footsteps crunching in the leaves behind him, he turned. Snape was still sitting there, holding the overlarge robes around him.

"Let's go, Snivellus, we're going to be late for dinner." Black put his hands on his hips and waited impatiently.

Snape glanced up, and Black's brow furrowed a little. The smaller boy didn't look well. He looked quite ill, in fact. He watched the Slytherin get to his feet, and start toward him. With a satisfied nod, Sirius turned and began walking again.

They went along in silence for long minutes, the swish of their feet through the carpet of leaves the only sound, aside from Snape coughing every few minutes, staggering each time. After a while, Black couldn't stand the absence of conversation any longer.

"So why don't you like the water?" he asked over his shoulder. At first there was no answer, just shuffling steps and coughing. Then finally, Snape spoke.

"I had a bad experience when I was little," he said quietly. Black heard him run a couple of steps, as if trying and close the distance between them.

The larger boy nodded, a cocky half-smile tilting his mouth. "What, someone tried to make you take a bath?" he joked. He turned and sneered at his adversary. Another little flicker of concern creased his brow. Snape was looking worse with each passing minute. Now the thin boy was holding his stomach, and making pained faces.

"Actually, my father tried to drown me."

The voice was so soft that Black wasn't sure he had heard what he thought he heard. But when he looked into Snape's eyes, he realized he had heard correctly. Sirius's mouth dropped open slightly, and he just stared at the pale-faced boy. He tried to think of a reply, and finally settled on, "Why?"

Snape shrugged, pulling the robes tighter around his body as the wind blew again. His hair, still damp, blew in little strings across his face, and he pushed them away.

"He was ill at the time. He believed I was evil. So, one morning, he decided to drown me in the bathtub."

Black was horrified. "How old were you?" he asked softly, lowering his gaze, suddenly uncomfortable with looking the other boy in the eye.

"Five," Snape replied succinctly. "My grandfather stopped him. Whether or not that was a good thing depends on whom you ask." He gave Black a dirty look, and started forward. "Are you satisfied now? Does it make you feel better to know that you aren't the first person to want to get rid of me?" he asked peevishly as he passed by.

Black turned and started for the castle again without replying. He would never admit it, of course, but he was suddenly deeply ashamed of himself. Never in a million years had he imagined that the pale, strange, outcast boy had something so terrible in his past.

"I'm sorry, Severus," he said finally.

Snape stopped and turned toward him, his black eyes slightly wide with surprise as Black drew up alongside him. There was a brief moment between them that almost felt like mutual respect. But then Snape looked away, and Black moved on ahead.

"Don't lose sleep over it, Black. I guarantee you, nobody else has."

Sirius faltered a bit, but didn't respond.

The two boys walked on. Black's longer legs and faster gait gave him the lead over Snape again within a minute, and by the time they neared the castle, the Slytherin was trailing several meters behind. The sky was beginning to turn pale with the onset of evening when they came out of the woods and onto the campus green. It was deserted. Clearly everyone was already inside at dinner.

Black glanced back, annoyed that Snape had fallen so far behind. "Come on, will you?" he called. "It'll be another detention for us both if we're out here after dark."

The Slytherin was weaving badly, as if drunk, both arms over his belly. Black turned to him, worried.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked, perturbed. The smaller boy came to stand before him, opened his mouth to speak, and promptly doubled over and vomited.

"Ugh, nice," Black muttered, stepping back to preserve his shoes. Then his eyes widened. The mess Snape had brought up was streaked with blood, and had small, black, wriggling...THINGS in it!

"Holy shit," the Gryffindor breathed. "What was in that water?" He looked up just in time to see Snape's eyes roll back in his head. He leapt forward and grabbed the scrawny boy around the chest, holding him up as he sagged, boneless. There was an alarming amount of heat coming off the limp figure, and he realized his adversary was burning up with fever.

"Merlin's balls," Black swore. He quickly swept Snape up in his arms and set off running toward the castle.

The Slytherin moaned, apparently revived by the jostling. He opened his eyes and looked around, bewildered. Then he began to struggle halfheartedly, pawing ineffectively at Black's broad chest.

"P-p-put me down," he demanded blearily, shivering as sweat rolled down his flushed face. "I'm not a b-baby; I can b-b-bloody well w-walk."

"Look," Black muttered, "unless you're planning on puking up more of those carnivorous tadpoles - in which case I'd appreciate fair warning - then just shut up and let me carry you." He tried to sound flippant, despite his concern.

"N-no. I d-don't want..."

"It's faster, stupid," Black snapped, cutting off all further protests.

Snape fell quiet. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around Black's neck and snuggled miserably against him, resting his chin on the taller boy's shoulder.

The Gryffindor eyed him suspiciously. "Hey, don't start thinking that this means I like you or anything," he warned. "I still hate you. This is strictly for my own benefit; if you die, I'll be expelled."

The Slytherin responded by vomiting loudly down Sirius's back.

Black stopped short, frozen, mouth agape in shocked, horrified disbelief. "Son of a BITCH!" he bellowed.

"I'm sorry," Snape whimpered tearfully on his shoulder, apparently becoming delirious with fever.

"Oh for fuck's sake, don't start crying," Black ordered desperately, running again. "I'm already going to die of embarrassment when everyone sees me."

How did this look; the infamous Sirius Black carrying Severus Snape, his sworn enemy, who had not only puked on him, but was wearing his ROBES? And CRYING? He would never live this down.

"Oh god, it hurts...," Snape sobbed, his face wet and burning hot against Sirius's neck. "Unnnggggghhh!" he wailed, pulling his knees toward his chest and digging his fingers into Black's shoulders.

"Hang on, we're almost there," Black said, more reassuringly than he felt. His heart was hammering against his ribs, and not just from the strain of running with Snape in his arms.

He ran along the small stone corridor lining the courtyard. With a grunt, he kicked open the first door he came to and ducked inside. Pausing briefly to get his bearings, he then took off down the hall toward the hospital. As he neared the Great Hall, he could hear that the evening meal was in full swing. With any luck, everyone would be occupied and nobody would notice him.

But of course, just as he got to the entryway, Lupin emerged, flanked by James and Peter. The werewolf saw Sirius and waved, but his friendly greeting died on his lips when he saw the situation.

"Not a word, Moony," Black growled as he ran past the stunned boy. His friend just gaped, turning to watch him run by, hand still frozen in the air.

"What could I possibly say?" Lupin murmured, nonplussed. He turned and gestured quickly to James and Peter, and the three of them followed in Black's wake.

"What's all over your back?" James called as he ran behind Sirius.

"Don't ask," Black replied in a low growl.

* * *

"Madame Pomfrey!" 

Black's shout echoed through the quiet hospital ward. Madame Pomfrey started, then jumped up from her desk and crossed quickly to meet the panting Gryffindor and his moaning burden.

"What happened?" she demanded, placing her hand on Snape's brow. She motioned for Black to follow her, and they moved to the nearest empty bed. The other three Marauders followed, watching silently as Black eased the sobbing, semi-conscious Slytherin down onto the bed with surprising gentleness.

"Please...it hurts!" Snape wailed, rolling onto his side, clutching his stomach, and curling into a ball.

"He fell in the lake," Sirius explained, gasping for air, altering the details a bit for time's sake. "And then when we were walking back here, he got sick. And there was blood, and these little black squirmy things..."

Nurse Pomfrey stared at him. "Did you happen to bring any of them back with you?" she asked sternly.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow, incredulous. "No ma'am, I didn't think to..." Suddenly he remembered. "Actually, he puked on me, maybe there's something there?" He turned and showed his back to the nurse, gesturing with his thumb.

Madame Pomfrey took one look and gave an ungodly shriek, making all four of the Marauders jump. "Take your shirt off!" she ordered, pulling out her wand.

Sirius quickly did so, ripping the garment open without bothering with the buttons. James and Peter helped pull it off his shoulders, and the nurse snatched it, rolled it into a ball and dropped it on the floor.

"Incendio!" she said, pointing her wand. Sirius's shirt burst into flames, and a pathetic, high pitched wailing issued from somewhere inside the folds as the garment was consumed.

Pomfrey moved to the supply cabinet and returned with a small bottle. "Move," she ordered briskly. The Marauders stepped back, and she sat at Snape's side. She uncorked the bottle, and a strong smell of cloves and wolfsbane filled the air.

Lupin sneezed.

"Bless you," James muttered instinctively, staring at Snape and Pomfrey.

"Oh, please, it hurts!" Snape sobbed, reaching out for the nurse with one hand, holding his stomach with the other. "Ohhh, make it stop!"

"Shh, it's all right, dear heart," the nurse said gently, pulling him into a sitting position. She held the bottle to his lips. "Drink this, it will make you feel better."

Snape obediently swallowed the draught. When the bottle was empty, Pomfrey laid it aside, and rocked the slight boy in her arms, stroking his hair. She made soft, comforting, cooing sounds as he wept pitifully into her bosom. As Lupin sneezed again, she seemed to realize the Marauders were still there, and turned to smile at them.

"It's all right, boys, you can go now," she said softly. She looked at Sirius. "It was good of you to bring him to me, Mr. Black. I shall be sure to inform the Headmaster."

Nobody moved.

"Is he going to be all right?" Black asked softly.

Madame Pomfrey gave him a kind smile. "Yes, dear. He'll be fine."

Snape suddenly made a retching noise, pulling back from the nurse and holding a hand over his mouth.

"Hand me that basin, Mr. Pettigrew?" the nurse asked, pointing at the bedside table. "Quickly, please."

Peter grabbed it and thrust it at her, watching with wide eyes as she held it under Snape's face. The black-haired boy heaved violently, and vomited into the basin.

"Ugh," Lupin, Sirius, James and Peter muttered as one.

Snape had regurgitated what looked like blood and small bits of raw liver. The Slytherin gagged and retched several more times, producing more of the same each time.

"Evanesco," the nurse murmured nonchalantly, waving her wand at the bowl. It emptied itself just as Snape started filling it up again.

Sirius watched with a sort of sick fascination. The bowl contained more of the little black wriggly things he'd seen earlier. Only now they were not wriggling. One of them would give a feeble little twitch every so often, but for the most part, the little blobs were completely still.

"Mr. Potter, would you please bring me a couple of those white cloths from the shelf beside the sink?" the nurse asked. "Run them under the cold water tap first."

James did as she asked, wetting the two cloths, wringing them out, and returning to the bedside. He handed them to her, and she nodded her thanks.

"Nurse Pomfrey...What IS that stuff?" Peter asked, voice soft with horror and revulsion.

She patted her patient on the back and emptied the basin again before replying. "Flesh-eating slug larvae. The adults lay their eggs in cold, dirty, stagnant water, and they hatch when the weather begins to get warmer." She laid the exhausted boy back onto the pillows, stroking his hair back from his brow and placing one of the cool cloths there.

"Mister Snape must have swallowed the eggs when he fell into the lake," she explained, setting the empty basin on the floor under the bed. "The warmth of his body caused them to hatch." She opened Snape's robes, which were, in fact, Sirius's robes, and tugged his shirt and undershirt up.

Lupin shuddered. "And he was in pain, because...because..."

"Because they had begun to feed on the inside of his stomach," the nurse finished casually. She moved her hand over her patient's abdomen, pressing gently, as if searching for something. "Very painful, as you can imagine. Plus the waste they produce is highly toxic, hence the delirium and fever."

She unfolded the second cloth and draped it across Snape's belly, and pulled the sheet up over him. Then she picked up the empty potion bottle, re-corked it and held it out to Black.

"Would you please give that to Professor Gottlieb, and tell him I need more Slugicide potion?" She asked with a soft smile.

Black numbly took the little bottle and went to put it into his shirt pocket. Then he realized he was only wearing an undershirt, and instead tucked it into his trousers. He watched the nurse dab the damp cloth across Snape's brow, wiping away the perspiration. The Slytherin was either asleep or unconscious.

"Is this...is this something you have seen before, Madame Pomfrey?" James asked quietly, eyes huge behind his glasses.

She looked mildly at him. "It's not a common ailment, Mr. Potter. Usually people don't go in swimming late in the fall, when the eggs are present." She tucked the sheet around Snape's rail-thin body and stroked his brow once more. "But it is usually fatal if not treated promptly."

Black shifted uncomfortably, looking at his shoes. Lupin eyed him.

"The only other case I ever saw was back when I was an intern," she went on. "They waited considerably longer to bring the patient in that time. By the time they did, the slugs had eaten through his stomach wall and...," she stopped as Peter made a sickened noise.

"I'm sorry," she said, "this isn't appropriate conversation; you boys have just had dinner, haven't you?" She tucked her wand back into the folds of her dress and stood up, turning to the four boys.

"You can go now," she said.

The Marauders milled about for a moment, then began to move toward the door. Black gave the boy in the bed a long last look before turning and following his friends.

As they made their way down the stairs from the hospital, Lupin reached out and took hold of Black's arm. James and Peter moved on ahead.

Black turned expectantly to his lycanthrope friend. Remus just gazed at him in silence for a moment before speaking.

"Snape didn't FALL in the lake," he said, softly. "Did he?"

Black lowered his gaze, refusing to look at him. Lupin gave a disapproving sigh.

"Honestly, Black. Do you really want him dead that badly?" The werewolf glared when Black lifted his face and met his eyes. With a sad shake of his head, the sandy-haired boy turned and started down the stairs again, leaving Sirius behind.

Sirius stood on the stairs for a long time, going over the afternoon's events in his head. He looked once more toward the hospital wing, and then followed the rest of the Marauders back to their dormitory.

* * *

That evening, Sirius went to Dumbledore's office to retrieve his wand, as the headmaster had promised. 

"Come in, Sirius," the older man said, smiling. He motioned for Black to sit down, which he did. "Nurse Pomfrey told me what happened," he said. "I'm very proud of you. That showed strong character on your part."

Black bit his lip, looking inward, folding his fingers in his lap nervously. "She doesn't know the whole story, sir," he admitted softly.

The headmaster simply raised his eyebrows. "You mean the fact that you pushed Severus into the lake, and then had to jump in after him when you discovered that he cannot swim?"

Black just froze with his mouth open, about to confess. He cocked his head at the ancient wizard. "What...how did you know?"

Dumbledore chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I didn't, at least not for certain," he said. "But now I do." His eyes glittered in amusement.

Black frowned, angry that he'd been tricked so easily.

"Logically, it just made sense," the headmaster explained, spreading his hands. "I happen to know Severus is terrified of water, so it would be unlikely for him to get close enough to 'fall in'. I assumed he had help."

Sirius just looked at him, feeling guilty, not knowing what to say.

"And I also assumed, correctly," the other man said gently, "that you have enough of a conscience not to have left him to drown, Sirius."

Black shook his head, aghast. "No sir, of course not. But...Snape...it was as if he thought..." He paused, still uncertain of the afternoon's events.

"Yes?" Dumbledore urged.

Black met the kind blue gaze, and his brow furrowed questioningly. "It was as if Snape thought...that I WOULD leave him. I mean, afterwards, he seemed genuinely surprised that I saved him."

"I see," the headmaster said mildly, pursing his lips a little.

"How could he think that I would stand there and watch him die, sir? I'm not _that_ mean..." Black compulsively ran a hand through his dark hair. "Am I?"

The ancient wizard looked down at the surface of his desk for a long moment, deep in thought. When he looked back up, there was the faintest hint of tears shining in his eyes. He came around the desk and took a seat in the other armchair, pulling it closer to Black, and turning it to face him.

"What I am going to tell you stays in this room, understood Mr. Black?" he said quietly, cocking a snowy brow.

"Of course, sir," Black murmured, leaning closer.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "I mean it, Sirius. Not even Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew are to hear about this."

"I understand, Headmaster," the young man insisted, eyes solemn.

"Very well." The ancient wizard sat back in his chair, folding his hands across his chest. "Did Snape happen to tell you why he is so frightened of water?" he asked softly.

Sirius nodded. "His father tried to drown him. Snape said he was ill at the time."

The older man chuckled sadly. "That's what they told Severus, to spare his feelings. They felt it would be easier for him to cope with what his father had tried to do to him if he believed the man was not right in the head when it happened."

Dumbledore removed his glasses and ran a weary hand over his eyes, as if what he was about to say was painful for him. Black just watched silently, both enthralled and horrified by the glimpse he was getting into Snape's background.

"Well, in a sense, what Severus knows is true. Jerus Snape was...ill...but it was by no means limited to when Severus was five. That man has harbored a great hatred toward his only child, from before the day he was born."

Black blinked.

"Jerus Snape was...IS...not a nice man, Mr. Black. He married Severus's mother for money, and never made any attempt to hide the fact. It was believed that she was unable to produce children, and that was fine with Jerus. And then...surprise...along came Severus. And there went Jerus's inheritance."

The older man stood up and began to pace slowly around the office. He moved to the perch beside his desk, and stroked the magnificent red bird that sat there. Black just watched, waiting for him to continue. Fawkes twittered softly, leaning into the stroking fingers.

"You see," the headmaster continued softly, "Jerus was to be the heir to his wife's family's fortune, as he was the last male to join the Previs family, even though it was only by marriage. And believe me, he knew it when he married Alyssia Previs. But when Severus was born, his blood tie to the Previs name automatically made him the heir, rather than Jerus."

Dumbledore turned to Sirius, with a small expectant half-smile on his face. "Do you understand why I am telling you this, Mr. Black?"

Black gazed up at him for a minute, then had to reluctantly shake his head. "I'm afraid not, sir," he murmured quietly.

The headmaster nodded a bit, and came back to sit across from him. "You still have enough youthful innocence not to comprehend. I consider that an asset."

Sirius smiled a little, shrugging. With a sad sigh, the headmaster continued.

"Severus Snape's home is one without love, Sirius. His father openly detests him. His mother resents him, because Jerus uses him as an excuse to make her life miserable. Sadly, the one family member who loved Severus, his grandfather, is now gone."

The old man's eyes were misting again, and he paused to swipe a gnarled finger under his right eye. Black's own throat felt strangely tight.

"He doesn't go home at Christmastime, or for Spring Holidays. In fact, Severus has asked me on several occasions to be permitted to stay at Hogwarts over the summer, but sadly, we do not have the means to allow it. I do try to arrange for him to take educational trips over the summer, though. He even comes to stay with me for a few weeks now and then. Anything to limit the amount of time that poor boy has to spend at home."

"Sir," Black asked, "if Snape's father would benefit so from his being killed, aren't you worried about sending him home at all?"

Dumbledore gave him a sly grin. "No."

Sirius's gray eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why not, sir?"

The ancient wizard leaned forward conspiratorially. "Because I have made it abundantly clear to Jerus that if any harm befalls Severus while in his care, I will ensure that he not only does not inherit the Previs fortune...but that a life sentence in Azkaban would be appealing, compared to what I will do to him." The snowy eyebrows bobbed, and the blue eyes twinkled.

A slow grin spread across Black's face as he imagined what it would be like to be threatened by Albus Dumbledore.

"So," Dumbledore inquired, reaching out to lay a hand on Sirius's shoulder, "do you understand your outcast little nemesis a bit better now, Mr. Black?"

Sirius nodded, looking inward, processing everything the ancient wizard had told him.

"I hope you will keep it mind the next time the two of you meet," Dumbledore said meaningfully.

"I will, sir," Black murmured, nodding slightly. "I truly will."

* * *

A few days later, the Marauders were doing their best to get kicked out of the library for the third time in a week. James had bewitched a handful of paper footballs, and the boys were launching them around the room at various people. 

Every time the librarian, Madame Pince, looked around at the source of laughter, the footballs conveniently hid themselves under the edges of the tables, behind books, or up the sleeves of the closest student.

"All right, you four," she said at last, marching over to their table. She gestured toward the door with one meaty thumb. "Out."

James looked insulted. "What makes you think it's us?" he asked indignantly, trying to hide a grin.

"Because it's ALWAYS you," she replied sourly, turning her back on him. "Out."

With low chuckles, the Marauders gathered their unopened books and herded toward the door. James and Peter began discussing the upcoming Quidditch match, with Sirius and Remus flanking them.

As they rounded a corner, they came face-to-face with Snape.

The Slytherin instinctively stepped backwards as he recognized them, glancing at them warily, but making no move for his wand. He met Sirius's eyes, and glared in hatred, obviously remembering the suffering Black had put him through a few days before.

Black just blinked at him, and didn't say a word.

With a sneer, Snape pushed his way through the middle of the group, and stormed toward the library.

"Why, that rude little git!" James muttered, sounding flabbergasted. He smiled wickedly and drew his wand. "Watch this," he murmured, pointing it at the retreating Slytherin's back.

Lupin opened his mouth to protest, but before James could utter whatever hex he was planning, Sirius's strong fingers wrapped slowly around his wrist, and coaxed his arm down. James stared at him in disbelief.

"Let it go, Potter," Sirius said quietly. He glanced once more at his nemesis as the skinny boy disappeared into the library. "Just...for once...leave him alone."

James just blinked, then calmly tucked his wand back into his robes. "Sure, Padfoot." With a grin, he patted Black on the shoulder and started walking again, excitedly telling Peter about the new Cleansweep one of the Gryffindor chasers had just acquired.

Black turned to find Lupin staring at him. "What?" he inquired, with a grin. "I just don't feel like harassing old Snivellus right now, OK?"

Lupin's sandy eyebrow went up suspiciously. "Who are you, and what have you done with Sirius Black?" he muttered lowly.

Sirius laughed and clapped the werewolf on the shoulder. "C'mon, Moony," he said amiably, draping an arm across his best friend's back and guiding him along. "Let's go play chess."

"Am I ever going to understand you?" Lupin asked with a grin.

"Nope!" Black chirped happily. "I shall always be an enigma to you, Loopy...just like girls." He moved his arm from Lupin's shoulders to grab him in a loose headlock.

"Watch it, dogbreath," Lupin muttered, grinning more widely, trying to duck out of Black's hold.

"Dogbreath!" Black gasped in mock-horror. He slipped his hand under Remus's arm and started tickling his ribs. The lycanthrope gave a screech and twisted away. Black pursued, wrapped his arms around the smaller boy from behind, and resumed tickling.

"No! Sirius stop! STOP!" Remus yelped, laughing, squirming, pushing at the strong fingers scurrying over his ribs.

"Boy, to hell with silver bullets...this is even better!" Black laughed.

"Oh, what's this? Today we're torturing Moony instead of Snivellus?" James laughed at his friend's predicament as he and Peter returned to join them. "I must have missed the memo." He reached out and playfully dug his fingers into Lupin's belly.

"Gonna...hex you...BOTH...in your SLEEP!" Remus managed to choke out between yelps and giggles, slapping at James's fingers. "I mean it!" he squealed. "I swear...you'll both have boobs when you wake up tomorrow. LET ME GO!"

"What, you don't find this funny, Remus?" James asked, snickering, dodging Lupin's slapping hands.

"NO!" Lupin snorted, tears streaming from his eyes as he laughed and squirmed, still trapped helplessly in Black's tickling grip.

"He certainly SEEMS to find it funny," Sirius cackled. "Why, I've never heard him laugh so hard!"

"PETER, SAVE ME!" Remus howled, reaching out a pleading hand toward the only one of his friends not participating in torturing him.

* * *

In the library, Severus sat away from the other students, all alone at a large table, his nose buried in a book. The Marauders' laughter echoed from up the hall. For just a moment, his black eyes lifted and looked sadly, almost longingly, toward the happy sounds. Then he sighed, and turned his attention back to his studies. 

THE END


End file.
